Tuscan Conundrum
By Susan KeevilThe cornerstone of the wine world we know and love is crumbling. Italian red wine, that stalwart of many of our cellars and kitchen caves, is apparently falling in popularity with exports toppling by eight percent since 2005. It's a bit like saying pregnant women no longer love ice cream, or that small boys no longer enjoy climbing trees. Conversely, white Italian wines are doing very nicely, thank you. Pinot Grigio is leading a resurgence of interest in the genre, supplemented as it is by ultra-refreshing clean, aromatic (and a good deal better) whites from the north of the country - Alto Adige, Friuli, the Veneto and their like. But I imagine it isn't a simple case of one replacing the other. There are confirmed red wine drinkers and confirmed white wine drinkers; many of us dabble in both, but few, if any, will swap completely from one to the other. So what's gone wrong?
I would have guessed it has something to do with one or all of the following: No. 1, maybe all the indigenous, unfamiliar Italian grape varieties we critics keep praising are just too confusing; No. 2, perhaps those Southern reds are not delivering all they so generously promised; No. 3, maybe too many outside investors in Tuscany are making wine in too many different style directions, at prices that are just too expensive, making buying them more cost-prohibitive.
But in asking around the industry to try to ascertain concrete reasons for the decline in red consumption, few thought the quirky Italian grape names were a problem. So the likes of negraoamaro, nero di troia, aglianico and sciascinoso are apparently not tongue-twisting themselves out of the market and into a wine lake; rather the consensus is they are being welcomed. Merlots and Cabs have been relegated to normality, and the wine-drinking public is embarking on more adventurous choices. A good thing, too.
Nor, it appears, are there any real quality problems from Southern Italy. The potential for delicious, warm-hearted, modern wines is still being realized, with huge successes on the export market. The cognoscenti - the likes of top U.K. importer David Gleave, M.W., for one - are concerned that a broader base is needed. In other words, more quality producers to draw from (particularly from the likes of Apulia, where, from what I can gather, wines are poor at one end of the spectrum, and a tad too powerful, too mighty and too acidic at the other) to maintain both curiosity and custom. But these aspects should come with time.
So in terms of the big red guns, with Barolo and Barbaresco building from strength to strength, the Valpolicellas and Amarones still visions in velvet, we're left with Tuscany, where there are murmurings.
Ten to 15 years ago, the Super Tuscans - such as Solaia, Sassicaia and Ornellaia - had queues of collectors vying to pay $100 per bottle for greatness. As we well know, these wines were adored for their might, rich ripeness, smart labels and outright rebelliousness (made as they were outside the confining rules of the DOC system). There followed a "me-too" stampede of moneyed investors flocking into the region to make similar wines. Doctors, lawyers, IT impresarios, investors from all walks and all countries, arrived to try their hand at making these highly sought, pricey wines. The fact that Tuscany is a beautiful place to live and work simply added to their fervor. The difficulties that followed had much to do with the fact that these new big-shots had a learning curve to navigate before their vines matured and their cellar techniques were perfected. Potential snags inevitably take a while to smooth out.
While they were busy crafting, honing and perfecting their product, many investors failed to realize that their market was disappearing from under them. People are not prepared to spend $100-plus per bottle for labels that lack cult status, nor do they wish to wait around for a wine like that to mature. Additionally, the market for expensive wines has undergone a notable global shift: Today it's the Russians and Chinese, rather than the Americans and the Japanese, who spend the money buying top clarets and Napa stars, and what is more they're buying the stalwarts - Bordeaux classed growths, the Burgundy elite, Super Tuscans with a track record - rather than the glitzy newcomers.
The best and the most astute producers have shifted their sights and now aim to make more accessibly priced and styled wine, but - and herein lies the most serious rub - the Sassicaia-imitations, branded with a host of fantasy names (Piastraia, Diambra, Strozzi, this sort of thing) and classy packaging, are all oh-so-beautiful, but offer no reference points. Take a look at a bottle and you'll see what I mean. Where are they from? Which grape are they based on? And what does its exotic name actually refer to? So often the label imparts only the barest minimum of information.
These modern wines shun the DOC system and the explanatory labeling detail, for the freedom of lesser-status IGT - meaning that all manner of new, exciting (usually international) grape varieties can be incorporated into the blend. But in a way, these additions also cause confusion: disparate flavors and lack of uniformity. Tuscan Viognier anyone? Bolgherian Pinot Noir?
Could the problem be that too many premium wines equal a loss of sales? Do too many new wine names (without histories) equal a loss of sales? Or are too many grape additions diluting and fragmenting Tuscan wine style (even some bluestocking Brunellos, supposed to be strictly sangiovese, have received the odd variety supplement) causing the loss? The fragmentation of the Tuscan brand means the region is losing out to international big-name wines, and there is increasing pressure to hang onto quality, but at reduced prices.
Is all this the fault of foreign investors? Probably not, as the Italians themselves are just as tempted by Tuscan investment and diversification. I'm not even sure that it's these Tuscan issues that are the cause of a fall in red wine sales. Statistics, after all, can be viewed from a number of perspectives, and used to prove many and varied viewpoints - depending on the politician involved.
What's certainly going on in Tuscany is a tiny identity crisis - a storm in a wine glass - much like (as my colleague Michael Palij, M.W., notes) happened in Piedmont ten to 15 years ago. The Piemontese sorted themselves out, and so will the Tuscans. What's needed is a bit more regional integrity (more local grapes, fewer foreign); some more regional labeling giving prospective purchasers some idea of where the wine comes from; and some more realistic price points.
For these reasons and more there's a big push now for more DOC names to generate some clarity. Yes, there's opposition to these new DOCs (enough already!), but the label descriptions they offer are needed if Tuscany is to regain its lofty stature. And, in talking to merchants (the guys who actually sell the wine) those Tuscan Viogniers and other oddities are actually quite popular. So please tell us more about them and we'll go out and buy them.
London-based European Editor Susan Keevil is a freelance wine journalist and regular commentator on the U.K. merchant scene.